


Warmer with you

by bioplast_hero



Series: Autumn Sheith [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Buying clothes, Flirting, Future university AU, Half-Galra Keith (Voltron), Keith looks great in everything, M/M, Sheith in Autumn, Sweater weather, Unnecessarily gendered objects
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-04
Updated: 2020-11-04
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:33:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27382747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bioplast_hero/pseuds/bioplast_hero
Summary: Far from home, Keith accepts Shiro's help with finding appropriate clothes for the coming winter. Shiro has the lamentable duty of telling Keith how good his ass looks in those jeans. Things are progressing nicely.
Relationships: Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Series: Autumn Sheith [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2000317
Comments: 46
Kudos: 115





	Warmer with you

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [С тобой теплее](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28767903) by [KseniyaChe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KseniyaChe/pseuds/KseniyaChe)



> #SheithinAutumn sweater weather
> 
> More impromptu autumn sheith? I'm having a stresswriting streak, please enjoy. Unbeta'd. 
> 
> Psst this is set in the future, at a time when hopefully even the USA (if it exists at all) has sense enough to use the metric system. ^-^
> 
> 🍂🍎🌻

The following week, Shiro spots Keith in town, across the street from his favorite grocery co-op. The Galran is storming away from an ATM with a sour expression, but all Shiro can really process in that moment is what Keith is wearing— and not wearing.

It’s a biting 3 degrees C, and if it decides to rain (as the skies are certainly threatening to do), it’ll more than likely come down as an icy sleet.

Keith’s arms are bare. He’s wearing a kind of sleeveless tunic, belted with leggings and boots. At least the boots look warm. Unlike the flight suit Keith was wearing on his first day on campus, nothing about this outfit says _climate-controlled._

Proving this last point, Keith has his arms wrapped around himself as he hurries down the street in the direction of campus.

Shiro forgets all about his grocery list, rushing across the street to meet him.

“Keith, what are you doing! You must be freezing.”

Keith sets his jaw stubbornly, even as his fingers look a little blue where they grip his bare arms. “I am fine.”

“You can’t be out here dressed like this. You’ll catch a cold.”

Keith squints at him. “Is this one of those Terran superstitions about the origin of illness?”

Shiro isn’t going to dignify that with a response. Shiro slips his leather jacket from his shoulders. He’s wearing two layers underneath, and the excitement definitely has him running hot at the moment. He’s already wrapping the jacket around Keith’s shoulders before the other has the wherewithal to object.

“No, do not—”

“Please, at least for a minute. I’ll feel better. You don’t have any winter clothes?”

Keith sighs enormously. “I came here to acquire clothes. My Daibazaal wardrobe is… unseasonable.”

“No kidding.”

Keith grits his teeth.

Okay, no jokes. Clearly he’s had a rough day as it is. “Want to tell me what happened?”

Keith grumbles something under his breath. “I have GAC. But the shop will not accept this currency, and the automated exchange device is not accepting my chip,” Keith seethes. He’s sufficiently frustrated that the sound is almost a whine. “I TRIED,” he shouts into the wind.

“Hey, hey,” Shiro soothes, palms sliding over the leather blanketing Keith’s shoulders. It seems to settle him. “It’s okay, Keith. You know, I can spot you.”

Keith glances down at himself. “I was not trying to _conceal_ myself,” he growls.

“No,” Shiro laughs, “another Earth expression. I can pay for your clothes today, and you can repay me when you get your GAC exchanged.”

“Oh.” Keith bites his lip, turning halfway over one shoulder at one of the shops he apparently tried. Shiro can’t stop looking at his tiny little fang snagging his lip. “You would offer this?”

“Definitely. Did you… see anything you liked?”

“I do not know.” Keith shrinks a little further into the oversized jacket. He looks adorable. “It was expensive. I do have GAC, but…”

“But let’s not spend it all at once,” Shiro agrees. The boutique they’re talking about is really high-end for a college budget, but Shiro wasn’t about to presume what that would mean to his new friend.

Keith glances back at the boutique window, then down at his feet. “I will visit my father again this evening. I hoped to dress appropriately, because he teased me the last time for wearing my ‘space suit’ at the dinner table,” Keith pouts.

Shiro tries valiantly not to laugh, and mostly succeeds. Mr. Kogane sounds like someone Shiro would like to meet.

“Well, it’s lucky you have me, then,” Shiro grins. “I think I know where we can go to see you clothed through the winter.”

Keith shrinks back a little. “You do not understand. I need only one serviceable set of garments.”

“And that’ll be up to you,” Shiro assures him. “But what if ten cost less than one in there?” Shiro gestures to the boutique Keith is apparently using to measure how far his GAC will stretch. “Would you be interested in that?”

Keith’s eyes widen. “You mean that this store is extravagant.”

“A little.”

“If you would guide me, I will owe you a great debt.” It’s so earnest it hurts.

Shiro holds Keith’s eyes. “Don’t mention it.”

The now-familiar expression makes Keith smile. As if to demonstrate that he is no longer resisting Shiro’s help, Keith slips his arms properly into the sleeves of Shiro’s jacket, cold hands soon finding the roomy pockets at either hip. Shiro reaches without thinking to zip it up for him.

“I _am_ able to dress myself,” Keith tells him, “despite appearances.” The confusion and frustration is gone from his voice, replaced with a warm thread of teasing. It’s a nice change.

“I don’t doubt it,” Shiro answers, hoping he’s the only one that hears the little tremor in his voice at the thought. He shouldn’t be thinking about dressing, or undressing, Keith.

Shiro really has a problem.

They make their way a few streets over, passing the occasional coffee shop, an unremarkable strip mall and a stop’n’go mart that’s seen better days. The sky is still threatening a wintery mix, objectively the worst kind of weather there is, but Shiro feels warm enough just keeping Keith company. The fall colors are vibrant against a gray sky.

“You may have your garment back,” Keith says, no doubt eyeing the rosy tint to Shiro’s cheeks and ears.

“I won’t need it,” Shiro answers, “because we’re here.” He waves Keith toward the door of the neighborhood Goodwill.

It’s a smaller location, but ample enough to have many rows of second-hand clothes, sorted roughly by type, size and (Shiro’s favorite part) by color. There’s something about the palette of organized hues that makes sorting through it all less chaotic, more comforting.

Right up front are seasonal racks of sweaters, divided women’s and men’s. Keith reaches out, running his fingers over the sleeves of dense knits, reds and burnt oranges fading to ochre yellows and olive greens.

“What are these?” Keith’s voice is a bit breathy. That’s definitely a sound Shiro would like to hear again.

“Sweaters. Do you like them?”

“Yes.”

“If you want to try anything on,” Shiro gestures to the cart, “set them in here.”

Keith looks skeptical of this process, but doesn’t say anything about it. He points to the leather jacket Shiro lent him.

“I will need one of these.”

“Prioritization, I like it,” Shiro says. “Jackets are on the back wall. Let’s go.”

It’s easy to see that many things are catching Keith’s eyes as they pass, but Keith has remarkable restraint. But when he’s staring at men’s jackets, Keith doesn’t react to much that’s there.

“Is there another like this?” Keith tugs at the sleeve of Shiro’s moto jacket.

“Maybe not _just_ like that. Real leather in here is rare. But if you don’t mind trying some options, I bet we’ll find something you like.”

Keith considers this quietly. “What is my Earth measurement?”

“It, well, varies a lot? By the type of clothing and the style, but in jackets you probably wear a men’s… medium?”

“Unnecessarily complicated system.”

“Oh, definitely,” Shiro agrees. “But when you try them, you’ll know right away.”

Keith frowns. “What is this use of ‘try’?”

 _Oh._ “Okay, yeah. It’s a custom here. You can, um, wear the clothes first and see if they are the right size, and just see how you like them. You know, before deciding to buy them.” Keith is still frowning at him. “And if you don’t want them, you just leave them behind.”

“There is no commitment?”

“None.”

“I must… _try_ only a small number, correct?”

“No, you can pretty much try as many as you want.”

Keith’s eyes are wide as moons. “This is an extravagant culture.”

Shiro laughs. “Probably true, yes.” He looks at the rack again, spotting several things he’s sure Keith would look great in, if he likes them. “Can I help? Just to get you started.”

Keith waves him forward. “Please.”

Shiro grabs five jackets in Keith’s approximate size— four, after he puts one back. There were tassels he couldn’t see until almost too late. The jackets he grabbed are all warm and practical for wet weather, a spectrum of options from sporty synthetic to shearling-lined to tidy, warm wool.

“Decisive,” Keith says. “Different from the apples.”

“Similar, actually,” Shiro laughs. “I had a head start looking.”

“And if I choose none of these, what happens?”

“Then they’ll hang them all back up and we’ll keep looking.”

Keith huffs a laugh, trying valiantly to accept this concept. But his expression freezes as he spots something, looking in the cart at the shearling on top.

“What is this number?”

It reads 29 USD, probably one of the more costly items in the store.

“Ah, that’s the price. But there’s no obligation, remember? You can still see if you even would want something like this.”

Keith looks at him in the strangest way. He shrugs out of Shiro’s jacket, pulling the shearling off the hanger and onto his shoulders with an approving smile. It’s a bit too large (wow, Keith really is small). Keith hugs it possessively.

“I could have so many garments.”

Once Keith has calibrated a bit on the GAC-to-outfit ratio and how fitting rooms work, he’s really off to the races. And Shiro’s having a blast critiquing— and, let’s be real, mostly complimenting— the various ensembles Keith puts together. He’s a natural, and looks amazing in almost everything. It’s unfair. Even the stranger combos that Shiro helps him rule out only prove that Keith could easily be a fashion sensation.

Each time Keith emerges from the fitting room, some delighted noise escapes Shiro’s lungs without his permission.

“You like this one,” Keith preens. By the tenth outfit or so, he’s not even shy about it, turning to get Shiro’s opinion from all angles.

Shiro is happy to admire all of it, especially the slim-fit jeans. If he doesn’t survive the afternoon, honestly what a way to go.

It doesn’t take long for Keith to lead them back to those sweaters he saw right up front. Keith sees numbers like 9 and 13 scrawled in an employee’s handwriting on the tags, and scoops up at least ten of them before Shiro can process it.

“Uh…” Shiro hesitates

“Yes? Is this not the correct procedure?”

“No, no, it definitely is,” Shiro rushes to reassure him. It’s just… shouldn’t he tell Keith these are the women’s sweaters? Not that that’s a problem, maybe just a little unusual. With their gorgeous cable knits, slender cut, longer hemline, those vibrant colors… all the prettiest sweaters _are_ in the women’s section, Shiro never fails to notice. And Shiro knows he’d never fit in most of them, anyway, even if he tried—

Keith is looking at him expectantly.

Shiro studies Keith for a moment: his strong yet slender limbs, all of his lithe muscle. He was _made_ for this stuff. Shiro’s actually a little jealous all of a sudden, but that’s definitely a Shiro problem, not a Keith problem.

Shiro makes up his mind.

“It’s just that the sizes are different in this section, because the styles are feminine and usually cut smaller. But, actually, I think all of these are going to be your size,” Shiro makes like he’s checking through them, just to be sure. They’re _gorgeous._ Wow, Shiro had no idea he was lusting this much for ladies’ cable knits; learn something new every day. “These two might fit extra loose, but that’s good— it’s pretty much the style.”

Keith glances up at Shiro’s eyes, studying him. “ _Feminine_ is not wrong, is it?”

Shiro shakes his head firmly. “Definitely not. Some humans are more traditional, but in a city like this you can wear anything you like. I mean, I’d probably like one, too, but,” Shiro shrugs, “wide shoulders.”

Keith purses his lips.

“All I’m saying,” Shiro continues, “is that it is different, but different is great. It’s more about your confidence, and what you like.”

Keith looks down at the ochre knit that lays on top of the pile, fingers lingering over the chunky wooden toggles down the front facing. There’s a little plum blush over his cheeks.

“This shape is familiar.” Keith gestures to the breezy tunic he’s already wearing and Shiro almost facepalms. _Of course._ “I would like to try some of both.”

Shiro’s smile is helpless. “Perfect.”

The afternoon is lost to shopping, and it’s a surreal kind of pleasure: unexpected, yes, but there’s nowhere else Shiro would rather be.

Several patterns emerge as Keith works his way through what he’s gleaned from multiple trips around the store.

Keith gravitates to all the warm colors— reds, oranges, deeper yellows— and plenty of black and gray.

Athletic wear isn’t doing it for him at all. Shiro got to see Keith’s ‘eww’ face.

The texture of flannel shirts literally made Keith purr, and bold plaids and checks do amazing things for him.

Keith always turns in front of the mirror to see how his legs and backside look in whatever he’s trying on. _Favorite asset noted._ Shiro would agree, but there are too many to choose from.

Naturally this means that with jeans, Keith’s mantra seems to be the tighter the better. The ones that look painted on are his favorites.

He latches on to a pair of combat boots the instant he finds a pair that fit.

Keith is a natural with layering, and accessorizing. There are two belts and two great scarves in the ‘maybe’ pile, and all Shiro has to do is sit back and let Keith do his thing.

The discard pile has grown exponentially— Keith is ruthless, and that’s good because Shiro is an enabler at heart and hasn’t seen much of anything Keith couldn’t pull off— but the ‘maybe’ pile is generous now, too.

Nothing has actually made it to a ‘yes’ pile yet. That’s partly Shiro’s advice to get a feel for everything first.

It turns out that Keith is also an enabler. He eventually gets Shiro to try on one of the cable knits himself, and damn it’s actually great. It’s a deep teal blue with a ribbed turtleneck, and doesn’t pull in the shoulders as much as he expected. Keith tells him it’s _very attractive_ and that about stops Shiro’s heart.

Shiro tries to be subtle about putting that one back. If he had even half of Keith’s panache, he’d love to wear it. Keith sees him hang it back up but doesn’t remark on it.

Last of all, while clearly Keith loves Shiro’s moto jacket (Shiro definitely spotted him sniffing the leather at one point), the one coat here that was to Keith’s liking was a gray-black peacoat that happens to look amazing with everything.

Keith stares at the ‘maybe’ pile.

“This is too much.”

Shiro laughs. “That’s fine. You haven’t bought anything yet.”

“I own very few garments,” he says quietly, like a confession. Shiro remembers Keith’s small shoulder bag; it checks out.

After a long pause, Keith pulls two flannels from the mix, one red-toned and one more gray and green. Black jeans, peacoat, boots. A red beanie. And the ochre knit cardi with sleeves long enough to pool over his hands to the first knuckle.

Shiro physically hurts seeing the pile he’s left behind, but Keith looks satisfied.

“Good?”

“Yes,” Keith sighs. “I enjoy this Terran shopping.”

“That makes me happy to hear,” Shiro says. He boldly settles his arm around Keith’s shoulders, steering him toward checkout. He lingers there just long enough to know he doesn’t ever want to let go.

“Only,” Keith pauses.

“What is it?”

“I would like to buy your sweater, as a gift.”

“My— _oh,_ Keith, that’s really unnecessary,” he shakes his head.

“You did not enjoy it? Alright, I understand. I will find another,” Keith assures him.

“No, Keith, I,” he bites his lip. “I do like it. I would buy it myself, but… I’m not sure I would actually wear it.”

“Why would you not?”

“It’s… showy.”

Keith blinks. “You would not like the attention?”

Shiro huffs a nervous laugh. “I’m not sure?”

Keith nods. “I believe I understand. You are very handsome. Others observe you enough. You do not wish to draw eyes.”

Shiro makes a strangled sound.

“On Daibazaal, I am called _gor’in._ Runt,” Keith says with a huff. “If others observe me, it is more likely with ridicule. I have proven myself formidable to those who know me well, but to others I am merely _gor’in.”_

“You’re gorgeous,” Shiro rushes to say. Keith freezes in surprise. “Sorry, it’s just— I thought so right away.”

“I was not seeking praise.”

“I know, it’s just— you are.”

Keith blushes. “I am enjoying the way you look at me. Very much. You made me want to buy all of the clothes.”

“Tempted,” Shiro laughs. He’s walking on air. “I’ll make you a deal. I’ll get my sweater, if you’ll take one more from your pile.”

It’s Keith’s turn to laugh. “Done,” he says, flitting off quickly to retrieve Shiro’s teal turtleneck, and Keith’s ruby bubble stitch sweater, too. And one of the scarves— exactly the one Shiro would have gone back for.

Seeing his selections, Shiro sighs. “I guess I won’t have to go back and buy them for you in secret.”

“Why secret? OH!” Keith’s spine pulls taut. “Terrans give gifts clandestinely, I forgot this. Is that why you refused mine?”

Shiro smiles, shaking his head. Whether that’s true or not, he isn’t even sure, but all he feels is joy radiating from his chest.

“I just needed a little encouragement,” he says.

Keith changes one more time before they leave. He needs to catch a cab to his dad’s house now for dinner. Shiro is loath to see him go.

“I was thinking…” Shiro hovers under the awning at Keith’s side. “I’d just really like to see you again.”

“Of course you will see me again. I owe you considerable GAC.”

Shiro catches himself on the way to a pout. Keith is clearly teasing him, and that warms Shiro more than all the sweaters in the world.

“I want to see you like this, just… spending time.”

“I agree, Shiro.”

“This weekend?”

“I am all yours.” Keith’s words shoot right through Shiro’s heart.

“Perfect,” he squeezes Keith’s shoulder. “It’s a date.”

.o0o.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [**twitter**](https://twitter.com/bioplast_hero)! 🍂🍎🌻 [Other sheith by this author](https://archiveofourown.org/works?utf8=%E2%9C%93&work_search%5Bsort_column%5D=revised_at&include_work_search%5Brelationship_ids%5D%5B%5D=10209319&work_search%5Bother_tag_names%5D=&exclude_work_search%5Brelationship_ids%5D%5B%5D=17504241&work_search%5Bexcluded_tag_names%5D=&work_search%5Bcrossover%5D=&work_search%5Bcomplete%5D=T&work_search%5Bwords_from%5D=&work_search%5Bwords_to%5D=&work_search%5Bdate_from%5D=&work_search%5Bdate_to%5D=&work_search%5Bquery%5D=&work_search%5Blanguage_id%5D=&commit=Sort+and+Filter&user_id=bioplast_hero)
> 
> I love comments of any kind, including emoji dances and keysmashes— all welcome. Thank you for reading!


End file.
